


Pleasure and pain

by A_Quiet_Place



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Altered States, Anal Sex, Blood and Violence, Fight for Tobias, M/M, Masochism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:31:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Quiet_Place/pseuds/A_Quiet_Place
Summary: Twisted Fate is in for a rough night as Evelyn sets her sights on him. What he thinks is going to be a very fun time might just take a turn for the worse, he might just need a little help from a friend.Graphic sex scenes (R18).The Dub-con is for the altered sense of pain some characters go through, their decisions are their own.Lot's of swearing with a little F/M foreplay, please read the tags!





	Pleasure and pain

**Author's Note:**

> This is more a M/M fic, so I have tagged it as such, though the beginning is pretty F/M. So hang in there if the M/M is what you are really here for!
> 
> I own nothing but the depravity.

She's the most beautiful creature Tobias Fate has ever lain eyes on. Her skin is flawless, pale and as soft as moonlight. Her lithe form is draped in a gown of shadows made of silk; it sways and clings to her figure like a second skin. Her smile is sensual and inviting with soft rose touched lips and her eyes sparkle with sinful promise and mischief.

Tobias will never admit it but his cards are becoming harder to focus on; the realization makes his lips twitch into a smile. It is a rare gift to distract him from his winnings and that just makes her all the more appealing.

At first he thinks her an intentional plant from his opponents at the poker table. A woman so beautiful in this shit-hole tavern is bound to be trouble. But the way she moves through the room unnoticed tells him there is something more to her story and he is more than willing to take the gamble.

She plays coy, sliding in and out of his peripheral vision as she maneuvers between patrons but Tobias knows it's him she is closing in on. His hands work on auto-pilot, dealing himself new cards for the game he can't possibly lose, but his senses are tuned towards her, following her motions like a spider watching a fly.  
  
He has his vanity, it's in his fine clothing and his deep drawl as well as his finely groomed long hair. It's a well cultivated character that has assured him a place in her bed later whether he is walking into a trap or no. He's as certain of that as he is of his winning hand. And yet he folds, placing his cards face down on the table, a lackadaisical smile on his lips. He shrugs an 'oh well' of humble defeat as his coin slides across the table to new owners.

He is, after all, playing the long game.

He plays three more rounds, allowing his opponents to gain their confidence. In their hubris they bet more, certain they will clean Fate out. He glances at his cards and feigns concern, emitting a soft hum of thought. It's a royal flush, Lady Luck has set him up with a generous offer and he would be a fool to spurn her advances now.  
  
He smiles smugly when he plays his cards, spacing them out so there can be no doubt. Silence falls over the table, it takes a moment to set in before his opponents are stink-eyed and demanding a re-match. But Fate has places to be, such as buried between the legs of his sensual lady stalker.  
  
“Listen here, Fate.” Jasper growls, gripping Tobias' arm as he reaches to sweep up his winnings, his yellow teeth bared in anger. “You set that coin back down and there wont be any reason for your blood to spill tonight.” The other two players hands are out of sight underneath the table, likely gripping their weapons, ready to take by force if necessary.  
  
Tobias leans back in his chair and sighs, retreating his hand raising in a lazy gesture as if conducting some sort of surrender orchestra.  
  
On queue one of the drunks sitting at the table behind them stumbles to his feet, knocks his chair over and takes a staggering step towards the poker table. He's dressed to blend in shabby sun faded clothing, mussed hair and a cigar perched between his lips, but the moment he presses a very heavy looking pistol against the back of Jasper's head all trace of drunken movement and posture is gone.

The hammer cocks with a resounding click as the drunk leans forward to speak into Jasper's ear. “We both know that ain't going to happen.” Malcolm Graves' gravel-toned rumble makes the trio freeze. Jasper goes an interesting shade of grey before raising his hands off his holstered weapon. His beady eyes flicker between outrage and fearful self preservation.

Tobias tips his hat to Malcolm and smirks. It's like the good old days of their well spent youth all over again, a nostalgic con to end the night.

He lets out a soft huff of laughter and takes his time gathering his winnings, pointedly basking in the glares sent his way. He offers a mocking little bow to the three before he finally turns and walks away, pockets now heavy with gold.

He doesn't stop to see if Graves manages to get out unscathed. Instead, as he passes the tavern bouncer, he flicks the man a nice gold coin and smiles. He doubts Malcolm will have any issues settling up.  
  
Fate strolls toward the stairs with a spring in his step, keeping his pace leisurely as he climbs. He grins from ear to ear as he passes the magical runes printed against the walls in place to block out the noise from the rowdy tavern below.

His shadow minx will surely follow and then tonight's fun will truly begin.

He's humming when he reaches his room. It's clean and simple, a bed large enough for two against the far wall. A small sofa sitting on an old rug faces the fire place which he stops to light allowing the warm shadows to spread around the room.

Straightening, he methodically undresses placing his hat on the night stand, his long black coat and waist coat he drapes over the back of the sofa. All the while, his ear is trained to listen for the softest sound that will give away his awaited guest.  
  
He is not kept long.  
  
The door swings open slowly revealing her beguiling figure and Tobias finds his breath caught in his throat at the vision she presents.

Up close she is like sin made flesh. Her hips sway as she invites herself inside, her movements so elegant is it like watching a dance.  
  
“Have you been waiting for me, love?” Her voice is a purr, offering and tempting in one simple breath.  
  
He is not a man so easily seduced, but even so, he fights to urge to stare.

Tobias allows an easy smile to spread over his face, one hand tucked non-nonchalantly in his pant pocket where his fingers rest tentatively on a deck of playing cards. “I feel I have been waitin' for you my whole life, Darlin'.”

She lets out a charming little laugh and sashays towards him, her heels making delicate clacking sounds as she moves along the hardwood floor. Behind her the door swings shut with a resounding click.  
  
Fate doesn't move, his eyes are scanning her lithe form for coiled violence for a knife tucked in the tight dress that flows behind her. “You wouldn't be here to take what what I rightfully earned now would you, Sweetness?” His fingers tense slightly around a card waiting for her answer, though he keeps his posture relaxed, his smile warm and welcoming.

“Oh, my love, it's not your gold that interests me.” She pauses a foot away, her hands sweeping out with their long nails to brush against his shirt provocatively smoothing out imaginary creases and feeling the warmth of the flesh underneath. “No I want something far, far more rewarding than that.” Her slim form presses against him, offering warm lips to taste.

  
Fate finds himself drawn in by her words, a spark of lust creeping through his body like the heat from a flame. He leans forward just enough to press his lips to hers and she responds by molding herself against him, her arms encircling his head as she hums her appreciation into his mouth.  
  
Fate's hand leaves his pocket and cards behind as he wraps his arms around her. He slides them down her smooth, pale back and rests them against the swell of her hips. She hums and presses into him in response, deepening their embrace.

The kiss takes his breath away, and he knows suddenly that he is heading into dangerous territory but can't seem to bring himself to care. Not even the sudden sharp pain as she bites his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, can settle the heat rising in his body.

He gasps in surprise and stares down at the beauty in his arms. His fingers raise to his lips and he winces slightly as they come away red and wet. “Lucky for you, I like it a little rough.” He licks the blood away and grins, crushing her against him.  
  
The moment he speaks her pupils dilate with lust, and Fate finds himself suddenly slammed against the wall, near winded at the force. His shirt torn off him in one swift motion that has him hardening in his pants faster than he has for many a decade.  
  
“I'm just getting started.” She purrs and latches onto his right nipple with sharp teeth.

His sharp yelp is so loud he is certain if it weren't for the silencing runes they would have heard it downstairs, but he keeps himself from pulling her off him. He's curious, and shockingly aroused by the bite.  
  
His cry earns him a soft laugh of pleasure and those sharp nails drag up his skin like the tip of a knife, leaving a wake of beading blood. He writhes beneath her hands, putting in a valiant effort to show that he is enjoying the sensation when in reality a prickle of concern is squirming around his mind like a slug through molasses.

“No need to rush, we got all night.” He chuckles, gently trying to slow her down. He can stand a scratch here and there in the throws of passion but he's likely to end up mauled before the act at this rate. His breath hitches as the sharpness of her teeth send a shock of pain through his chest.  
  
“Oh, you say such wonderful things!” She smiles sharply at him after pulling her teeth from his now bleeding nipple. “I've got so many plans for you, my love.”  
  
And just like that, all is forgiven. The words seem to jump right to his groin, making him groan a little at the sweet ache.

Tobias grasps her buttocks and pulls her upwards, helping her wrap her legs around his hips. She laughs wildly and presses the heels of her shoes into the flesh of his backside. Those long nailed fingers twist into his hair and jerk his head back, pulling another gasp from his mouth.

He is shamelessly rubbing his straining cock against her trying to alleviate some of the ache that runs through him. The tight restriction of his clothes is creating a frustrating lack of friction. He groans again and stares up at her, hoping to be rewarded with those soft lips against his own once more.  
  
Instead, he sees something that drains the blood from his body so fast he's almost dizzy. The beauty in his arms seems to shift and change, her moonlit skin turning an eerie blue like wisps of fog over water. Those sharp teeth seem to gleam with their carnivorous points, and her eyes are aglow and with filled with a violent hunger; which Fate is suddenly sure will haunt his nightmares for years to come.  
  
He immediately tries to shove her off, his movements violent in his alarm. She laughs, her nails are now talons prying into his skin, her heals dig in deep into the flesh of his backside like daggers. The tresses of flowing fabric, that Fate had mistaken for an elegant scarf, move like whips behind her, suddenly alive with movement like the tail of a scorpion. Their tips are sharp and pointed and they rise up over her head with menacing promise to stab and slice.  
  
He manages a choked gasp of shock, everywhere she touches him feels like a thousand needles stabbing into his flesh, but what is more alarming is just how hard his cock is the whole time. It throbs with his need, pressing against her inner thigh through frustrating cloth.  
  
Tobias is reeling, he can't seem to convince his body of the absolute arousal killing danger he's in.  
  
“What's the matter, love?” Her voice takes on an ethereal hiss, her mouth wet with his blood. “We're going to have so much fun together! All night, like you promised!” She laughs again, showing off those pointed little teeth. Fate can feel each and every sharp edge of her as she burrows into him, puncturing his skin.  
  
He cries out once before those teeth descend on his mouth. She pulls at him as if she is trying to suck the sound of his pain into herself. He can feel her teeth tugging teasingly at his already wounded lip, threatening further damage.  
  
He shoves uselessly with his forearm against her neck, trying to pry her off while his free hand desperately fumbles to his pants pocket. He grasps at the deck of cards which shift and slide under his sweaty fingers. In desperation he pulls the first one he can grip onto and yanks it out.  
  
Lady luck hasn't abandoned him completely it seems as a flash of red begins to glow around the card edge. It only has a moment to charge and not to full capacity, but he has no time to lose as his flesh gives way under sharp nails.  
  
Tobias slaps the card to her thigh. There's a resounding crack like confined thunder and Fate finds himself slamming into the wall for a second time with force enough to daze.

The creature hits the wall on the opposite side of the room with a heavy thud, her eyes wide with surprise. Her expression is quickly replaced with eagerness as she lets out a peel of malevolent laughter. It takes her no time to leap back to her feet, she stares at him hungrily licking her lips in anticipation.  
  
Fate almost feels shame as an unbidden spike of arousal tickles his spine at the image she presents. He's so achingly hard he feels like he is going mad. He shakes his head and lets himself smirk, trying a bluff of confidence as he allows the familiar rush of battle pluck at his nerves. His cards are in hand now, charging under the power of his fingertips.  
  
And then she disappears.  
  
Tobias' eyes widen in surprise, the shadows seem to crawl around her until there is suddenly nothing. He feels a cool sweat trickle down his spine.  
  
“I can't wait to taste your agony.” The voice coils through the air making him jerk around. To stem his rising panic he slows his breath, ears straining to catch the smallest sound. He waits a heart beat, two.. three..  
  
And then he hears it, the sharp whistling of the tail like spines as they jab through the air towards him. He turns just in time to stop one lodging itself into his shoulder, but the glancing blow tares through the flesh at his chest.  
  
It feels like liquid agony.  
  
He lets out a scream of pain and nearly drops the gold card he has charged at the ready. His body buckles involuntarily but his hand manages to stay its course long enough to allow the card to fly out and slam into the creature, catching her in mid motion of a second strike. She freezes, her face a mask of hunger and excitement.

He only has a few moments before that spell wears off and as competent a fighter as he is, there is just no space for him to move in the confines of the room. And gods, his cock feels like it could stab through steel. The screeching agony in his arm only seems to enhance the need in his groin, and the sudden heart stopping throb of need somewhere deep inside him.  
  
Tobias is in so much fucking trouble.

He forces himself to act, diving quickly away from her frozen form and drawing every card in his deck. The magic charges through his hands and into the cards, causing them to rise into the air and circle about him in the beginning of the teleportation spell. The eye of Destiny gives him a brief vision of his target: a man that is his first line of defense against sticky situations, before the cards phase him through the spell.  
  
As the tug of magic pulls him he hears a harsh hiss of annoyance. “No, no! We're not done!”

A second later he finds himself standing in the middle of Malcolm's room, clutching his wounded chest and breathing heavily as his cards fall to his feet.  
  
“Th'fuck?” Graves growls, the double barrelled shotgun is in his hands is pointed at Fate before recognition hits him and he lowers the lethal weapon. “Who'd you go and piss off? You've barely been gone half an hour.” To his credit, he doesn't mention Fate's obvious arousal.

“Malcolm, you wouldn't believe me if I told you.” He sags heavily to one knee, voice strained and raspy, a thin layer of sweat drips off his forehead.  
  
Graves raises an eyebrow, looking pointedly from the bleeding wounds to the relentless bulge in Fate's pants. “Uhhuh.” He moves forward, resting Destiny's barrels against his shoulder as he grips his partner's elbow to help him stand.  
  
“Just shoot anythin' that comes through that door.” Tobias grunts out in pain, leaning heavily against Graves' side. This turns out to be a mistake. As the pain the contact causes shoots through his chest and races to spark in horrible pleasure down his spine the throb within him becomes like an incessant itch. He lets out a low tortured groan, his hips bucking involuntarily in desperate need of friction.

His groin meets Graves' hip and the pressure feels so gods damn good that Tobias can't pull away, even when Malcolm shoves at him in alarm and curses.  
  
“Tobias, I swear, if your dick comes near me again, I'm going to shoot the damn thing off.”

In response Fate grips at Graves' dusty old shirt and lets loose a string of swearwords that slur into unintelligible moans. Heedless of the outlaws warning his hips are grinding down on his partners thigh like a bitch in heat.  
  
Malcolm growls in warning and shoves again, large hands pressing against the wound on Fate's chest. His action is intended to snap the card sharp out of his rut, but it has the opposite effect. Tobias lets out a sharp cry, tears forming in the corners of his eyes from the sweet sharp pain. His fists clench hard around Graves' shirt fabric, tugging in his agony until the buttons tear loose.  
  
“What th'FUCK?!” The outlaw roars and drops his shotgun to the side to free up another hand. He simultaneously tries to regain his shirt and keep Fate at bay, but Tobias is much more slippery and determined than he accounts for.

The lithe form of the card sharp tangles with his own stockier build, smearing blood and wrenching gasps from their mouths.  
  
Tobias' pupils are blown wide and dark, the grazing of bare flesh against his own sends rippling shudders through him until he's clawing, clambering to be closer. His arms wrap around Graves' neck and shoulders like a vice, pulling himself flush against his partners broad chest and burying his face against the bearded neck.

Fate is moaning and desperate. Every thought and feeling in his body focused on the absolute pleasure and pain rushing through his nerves like a flood. He can't stop rubbing himself against the heat of Graves' body and the internal throb is driving him mad with need. His tongue darts out to taste the hot flesh under his lips. He's gone, totally gone, the desperation making his heart pound worryingly in his chest.  
  
Why had he never noticed just how _fucking good_ Graves felt?

“The hells is wrong with you?!” Malcolm barks. His solution to the issue is to try and bash Tobias over the head, but Tobias' death grip around his shoulders makes it impossible to land, instead he grips at the card sharps long hair, jerking it hard. Again that pain tears through Tobias and ends in a throb of need, and a quaking moan. The tip of his cock has leaked through his pants, smearing pre come all over Graves' faded clothes as he rubs relentlessly against him.  
  
“Fuck me! Please, I'm beggin' you! I can't take it!” Fate feels like he's going to pass out, his heart is hammering so hard he think it might bust through his ribs. Whatever the scorpion woman has done to him certainly wasted no time getting started.

There's an awful pause, Graves has gone completely still and the room is filled with the sound of Tobias' desperate hitched moans and small sobs of need. Then slowly the hand tangled in Fate's long hair relaxes and hesitantly slides downward.  
  
The silence stretches out until Graves' hands carefully undo Fate's belt. The sound of rustling cloth and metal accompanies the heavy breathing, and after what seems an eternity, Graves' broad, calloused hand reaches into Fate's pants and rubs tentatively over the burning erection inside.  
  
Tobias sobs brokenly at the feeling, his mouth closes in the flesh just under Graves' ear and sucks hungrily, tongue lapping against the salty skin as the friction pulls heady groans from his lips.  
  
“Not a damn word.” Malcolm warns as his fingers rub over the velvety head of Tobias' cock in broad sweeps.  
  
It's so good Fate wants to cry but he has just enough self control to hold it back. Instead his hips press into the hand wantonly, but it's still not enough. The maddening throb inside him makes him gasp and he relinquishes his hold on Graves neck with one hand, instead he rubs it insistently against the clothed crotch of his partner in return. Graves is unmistakably hard.  
  
Malcolm freezes and halts his delicious movements.  
  
“Nothin' for you there.” He growls. “I'm going to finish you off then we ain't ever goin' to talk about this again, understood? Keep your cheatin' hands to yourself.”  
  
“If you don't fuck me into the floor, I am goin' to go get her to finish the fuckin' job.” Tobias bites back. His voice cracks with need, he hasn't removed his hand from rubbing Graves' slowly hardening length. Tobias punctuates the statement by sinking his teeth into the flesh he has been sucking on. Graves lets out a yelp, then growls low in his chest, a sound that shoots right through Fate in ways it shouldn't. In response a fresh lot of pre come bubbles at the head of Tobias' shaft as he hungrily tries to remind Graves of the job he started by nudging into that broad hand.

When Graves still doesn't get with the program Fate hisses into his ear. “I know who you masturbate to. I'm givin' you the opportunity here for the real thing.” He should win an award really, for the amount of concentration it's taking to string proper sentences together. “It's either you or the next person I find.”

A moment passes before the words sink in, Graves lets out another low growl before he spurs into action. Fate is almost dizzy at how fast his clothing is torn from him. The awkwardness of removing his pants is nothing when Malcolm's hot and insistent mouth is finally against his.

Those calloused fingers set to work exploring his body like a man starved, brushing over the scratches and scrapes left behind by his earlier encounter. The feeling sends shivers through Fate and has him writhing under Malcolm's hands.

The moment Fate's clothes have hit the floor, Malcolm slowly edges them backwards, allowing Fate to strip him down in return as they move towards the bed. Hot mouths and tongues sliding against each other in an unabating hunger.

When he finally has Graves naked he presses skin to skin like a man deprived of contact. Malcolm's body hair makes for a delicious tickling friction over his hyper sensitive flesh and he can't seem to get enough of the feel of it.  
  
Why has he never done this before?  
  
Fate is violent in his demands, his partners cock presses hot and heavy against his thigh showing he is not adverse to this sudden domination. He's pulling Malcolm close by the neck, biting at his lips, smearing the blood from his split lip into the other man's greedy mouth.  
  
It all happens so fast Fate would be hard pressed to recall the moment Graves managed to get his hands on a bottle of oil. Tobias barely registers anything beyond the body pressed to his own until cold, slick fingers press against his buttocks. His reaction is to immediately and eagerly press backward into them.

When the fingers breach him, too thick, too wide, too fast, the pain that runs through Fate's is enough to make him moan like a whore. Malcolm swears under his breath and forces his fingers deeper, his cock pressing urgently against Tobias' hip like a hot brand.

The stretch is painful, but it feels so good to have that throbbing place inside of him touched that tears form in his eyes once more and he's arching into it, riding the thick digits as they twist and thrust into him.

Tobias writhes against the hand with impatient abandon until he just can't take the tease any more. The pain is fading and with it the pleasure. He shoves hard against Malcolm's chest until they are sprawled in a tangled mass of limbs on the bed. Malcolm's fingers remain buried in him, hurriedly preparing the way, but also tortuously drawing the illicit sounds from Tobias' lips.

The card sharp straddles Graves' muscular thighs and grinds down onto the straining cock beneath him. He wriggles his hands beneath their flush bodies and is almost sobbing when he rubs their lengths together with a deft palm. Graves lets out a grunt in response, his mouth still busily tasting Tobias' lips and throat, whatever he can reach, his beard scratching over soft skin.

By feel his cock is not as long as Fate's but the tapered girth is enough to make the card sharp's mouth water. Another time he would wrap his lips around it, but the deep throbbing inside him begins thrumming with his heart beat forcing pained gasps out of him.  
  
He needs now. Right now.

When Tobias sits up, Malcolm is staring up at him with something between apprehension and anticipation. His eyes are dilated and his kiss swollen lips are parted slightly by heated breath.  
  
With a pang of urgent loss, the card sharp pushes the fingers pressing into his hole away. He then leans over Graves, giving him a moment to accept what's about to happen before he lines himself up to that thick cock beneath him, letting it slide along the cleft of his buttocks a few times in preparation.  
  
Graves' eyes widen and he sucks in a breath when Tobias finally sinks down on him. The pleasure and pain are so intense in the initial breach that Fate is arching backwards and howling with it; his whole body shakes as it accepts the unfamiliar girth into him.  
  
There could be more, a whole lot more, the pace of the stretch is almost too slow. Graves' guiding hands on his hips don't know how much he needs _right fucking now._ So he throws his weight back, forcing Malcolm into him with one hard thrust down.  
  
The pressure, the pain and the sudden fullness make his eyes roll back in his head. Tobias' insides are on fire and throbbing around the intrusion. He isn't even aware he's stopped breathing until Malcolm grips his good shoulder and barks his name in alarm.  
  
The interruption to his rapture spurs him into motion, he doesn't wait to reassure Graves, he just starts rocking back, his hands gripping the broad chest beneath him hard enough to bruise.

They fuck hard, Tobias' jaw is slack with the intensity. Gods he's never felt this good, not ever. When he allows Graves a moment of control the throbbing bundle of nerves inside him is gets slammed into so deliciously hard that he's almost screaming in pleasure. The pressure builds up in him like an electric charge. The sinfully painful drag of Malcolm's cock shoves him right over the edge so fast he doesn't even realize he's being jerked off by one of those calloused hands until the release slams into him like a wall. He comes so hard his voice breaks into a rasp from the cries of ecstasy. He's frozen in an arched position while his muscles spasm wildly. He can feel Graves seed enter him in thick spurts, while his eyes are fixed on Fate in lust filled awe. His breath is labored, tinged with strangled moans.

They stay like that for a moment before Fate finally collapses against him, all his strength finally gone in an instant. Malcolm catches him as he falls, cursing in surprise as he sets Fate down on the sweat soaked bed sheets.

The agony hits him hard without the relentless pleasure to ease it, and Fate can barely keep his head up out of sheer exhaustion.  
  
“Malcolm.” He manages to murmur between heaving breaths. “If I'm dead come morning, you can have my hat.”  
  
Graves lets out an incredulous snort and falls silent for a moment, his eyes show a rare hint on concern as he looks the mess of Fate over. They're both covered in his blood, but the wound on his chest is mercifully not as deep as it appears. It has begun to seal itself over with drying blood.

“What was that about?” Malcolm's voice is a low rumble, trying to sound nonchalant because he has a reputation to uphold. But Tobias has already passed out, his body so tired not even Lux's laugh could wake him now.

Malcolm frowns and reaches over, checking his friends breath and pulse gingerly before he begins painstakingly maneuvering Fate under the blankets they have soiled. “You're a fuckin' tragic mess, Tobias.” He grumbles and hauls himself upwards with a deep groan, as the aches of the evenings activities catch up with him.  
  
His spine pops as he stretches as he makes his way towards the pitcher and basin to clean himself off. The water is cold, and the blood is sticking to his chest hair. He's halfway through exhausted and pissed off, but at least mostly clean, when he hears the scrabbling against the door, as if something with claws is trying to get in.

Malcolm pauses then silently drops the sponge as he moves on bare feet toward the door; lifting up his shotgun from the floor as he approaches.  
  
He gets a few paces off when there's a sudden click as the tumblers lift and the lock releases. Graves freezes his step, raises his gun and takes aim; his finger settled over the trigger with practiced patience.  
  
The door swings open in a lazy arc, revealing the empty hallway beyond.

His body is tenses, eyes scanning the hallway patiently, waiting for the culprit to dash around the corner. The silence drags on, but Malcolm is patient, his breath has slowed to an even pace, the heavy gun raised without a tremble as he waits.  
  
A giggle behind him almost makes him jump. Instead, with military precision, he turns to survey the room, gun at the ready. He takes a few steps backward toward the door and swings it shut with his foot, planting his back to it.

“Aw, did I miss all the fun?” The feminine voice caresses his ears though his eyes are unable to pinpoint it's location. “I guess I'll have to take my disappointment out on you!” The voice turns into a hiss and something painfully sharp rakes up his bare thigh, leaving a trail of blood and searing pain that throbs right though his body. He lets out a grunt, swings the gun toward the sound, and fires.  
  
He hits nothing but air, the scattered blast from the ammo punching a hole right through the wall.

He's likely never going to be allowed back in this establishment.

Despite the pain, Graves doesn't flinch. He grinds his teeth down and props the butt of the gun against his shoulder so he can lower a hand to the wound, catching the blood as it pours out of his flesh and into his palm. “I've had paper cuts that hurt more.” He growls and waits, ears strained.  
  
His taunt is rewarded with a soft moan. “Oh can you take a lot? I love a man who knows how to last!”  
  
It isn't exact, the voice moves, but it is enough for him to fling his blood soaked hand outward, spraying the red liquid in a fan. When he sees a few drops land on something that his eyes cant see, he raises his wet hand to the gun again as fast as he is able and fires.

There's a screech of pain and a shuddering thump as something heavy hits the floor. A moment later the form of a naked woman is rolling cat-like to her feet, her taloned hands pressed to a wound at her side. Her glowing eyes are wide with shock.  
  
She's otherworldly beautiful, Graves will give her that. He can see why Fate would have got close to her but it doesn't stop him from pumping the fore-stock of his shotgun and taking aim once again.

There isn't going to be any clever one liners to end her, no one touches Fate, that's all there is to it.  
  
The shadowy form moves so fast it's almost a blur, but it's panicked, speeding toward the window. When he fires again it shatters the glass a moment before the shape bowls through the new opening with an ear shattering shriek. He at least winged her in her hasty departure, but even as he steps forward to check he knows she's gone.  
  
The pain in his leg flares angrily as he moves but he ignores it, steadfastly moving to check on Tobias.

One bloodshot eye stares up at him from the pillow, struggling to remain open.  
  
“My hero.” Fate mumbles hoarsely, his lips cocking into a pained smile. “Keep her out.”  
  
Malcolm only nods, watching as Fate's eyes sink shut again before he allows the warmth to enter his expression. He takes a moment to watch Tobias rest before he begins patching himself up; ripping a length of bed sheet to wrap around his thigh, before throwing on his clothes. His eyes dart toward the window habitually while he cleans himself up.  
  
He drags one of the rickety dining chairs towards the bed and sinks down onto it with a grunt of pain. He cradles Destiny in his lap, ready to fire at any given moment. The throbbing pain in his leg is resolutely ignored, even as the feeling travels through his body sparking along his nerves. He frowns, shifting in his seat, he is not unfamiliar with pain, or torture for that matter, but this is something different. His nerves feel like they are slowly setting themselves alight at the slightest touch.  
  
Graves' broad fingers sink down and press carefully along the wound under his pants. The long low hiss that escapes him is accompanied by a full body shudder as sharp pain and pleasure run up his spine. He glances to Tobias, eyes wide with shock. Fate is covered in wounds, it's no wonder he was nearly insane with need. The thought twists something in Graves' gut, and he jerks his hand away from the injury, stubbornly refusing the growing arousal inside him.  
  
He's angry. At Fate for playing to his weakness, at the demon harlot who had fostered this on them. At himself for giving into his own base desires.

The moment Fate is able to move they will be gone but the damage has already been done. It will be up to Tobias to decide how much he wants to forget. Graves wont dwell on it but neither will he ever forget what it was like to be inside Tobias, to have the card sharp come for him.

His head hits the back of the wooden seat, trying to block out the images of Fate riding him with fevered abandon. His cock, though recently spent, fills out with the memory, and Malcolm in return ignores it, instead watching the shattered window for signs of movement intently.

This is all so fucked up.

He can't consider how much things are going to change, not after all they've been through.

At some stage he must have fallen asleep because when he opens his eyes the sun is streaming through the broken window and there's an urgent ache in his groin. He's hard enough that the constraint in his pants is beautifully excruciating.

He starts when he realizes Fate is standing over him, still naked, still battered, but a great deal calmer than he had been the night before. He's watching Graves' straining groin with an unreadable expression on his face. When Graves shifts, trying to hide away his shame under Destiny, Tobias lifts his gaze.

A moment after they make eye contact, Tobias licks his lips. Graves opens his mouth to speak but can't manage to find the words, he's enraptured by the pink tongue that flicks out form between Tobias' lips. Without a word, Tobias drops to his knees and shoves the shotgun out of the way.  
  
Malcolm starts, and begins to protest, his hands trying to decide how and where to deposit his gun so he can push Fate away. “Tobias, this ain't you. You don't need to do this!”  
  
Fate stares up at him with a quirked eyebrow, then his lips spread into a smirk. “Let's say I have a new found appreciation for certain parts of your anatomy.”  
  
Graves almost blushes under that intense and teasing stare. Almost. He's about to call Fate out on what he is fairly sure is a bluff when that smirking sinful mouth closes over his aching groin. All words leave him in favor of a choked gasp of surprise.  
  
The muscles of that bare and battered body shift as the dark head bobs over him. He can't look away from the way the lips stretch around his length, or the dark eyes that flick up to meet his own as Fate carries out one of Graves' long time fantasies.

His body betrays him and his hips roll up uncontrollably, seeking the warm suction. The low moan falls from his mouth and is answered by Tobias wrapping a hand around his balls and squeezing just enough for that dormant pain to spark up his spine like a fire.  
  
He doesn't last long, he'd have the decency to be embarrassed if Fate didn't look so gods damn smug. The shuddering release leaves him little room for any reaction other than to let out a cry that sounds horrifyingly like Fate's name. But the card sharp simply _swallows,_ then wipes his mouth off and grins. “I guess we're goin' to need to share a room from now on, Partner.” He drawls and stands, exhibiting his body as he stretches. “For protection.”

Graves stares at him dumbfounded for a moment, then he returns the smirk, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.

“For protection, then.” He agrees, allowing the long hidden affection enter his voice.


End file.
